I never really thought about being a woman as an “issue” until I worked in video games. Admittedly, I arrived in 2006, when the idea of social media was just taking off thanks to the explosive growth of MySpace and the arrival of YouTube. Out of nowhere, there were these vast communication platforms offering exciting new dialogues, fascinating exchanges of thought and … masses of depressing and upsetting vitriol.

It was only when I hosted GameFace, a video game TV show on Bravo, that I became aware that, as a visible woman in this culture, you can be subjected to torrents of spiteful abuse – as well as endless commentary on your physical appearance. Admittedly, I first discovered this through a serious rookie error: I googled myself, just to see how the new show was being received. It was a truly mortifying experience.

She’s a games journalist? She must be really good at giving the editor head

Seeing yourself discussed online is like overhearing someone talking about you while you’re changing in the school locker room: you’re trapped, you have to stay and listen but you do it with this horrible, growing nausea. Seeing your life and appearance being dissected and destroyed by anonymous strangers is a sort of psychological car crash – only it’s your worst fears and insecurities strewn all over the tarmac being picked through by passers by.

I would fuck her so hard she’s be in a wheelchair, then I’d finish by putting a load in her face.

One of the worst elements is that people often don’t believe that sexist abuse is something that actually happens in the world. “You’re imagining it” is one common reaction, or “I’ve never seen anything like that so you must be mistaken”. Nothing is more rage-inducing than someone insinuating that you’re crazy or that you’re twisting things. This disbelief becomes so frequent that you start to doubt your own mind.

At least on the internet, you have some physical proof that it’s actually happening. It’s one thing to suggest that I’ve misheard or misunderstood something said to me on the street, but when someone has written “fuck her right in the ass” in a YouTube comments section, it has a certain clarity to it. Even the most staunch disbeliever has to admit there’s little ambiguity going on here.

Then came Twitter, which really cranked things up in terms of the terror around your own public persona. Suddenly, people could seek you out and tell you these things directly, as though compelled by some primal force to share their observations on your clothing, looks or demeanour; as though they had some great truth to impart.

This British Slut

It really annoyed me (possibly a great understatement). Although the obvious option is to block or mute, I’m a gamer, so I felt the need to reply – to “win”. I wanted to challenge them, to change the way they thought. I decided I would reply with putdowns of my own. I would do this until I won. No matter what it took.

I quickly discovered that spending days with heart palpitations, checking and replying to gross Twitter messages, muttering under my breath constantly when hanging out with friends and family, was no way to live. I was angry all the time.

So I did what girls are told to do. Don’t feed the trolls. Don’t antagonise them. Don’t engage.

Cum dumpster

And they were right – at first. I was much happier, I wasn’t constantly furious. I could live a normal life and interact online without losing whole days to abject fury.

But then I developed an unsettling feeling that this wasn’t quite right. Was it really the case that my best strategy, my superpower as a woman, was to be quiet? That has to be the worst superhero power of all time. Silence. How can anything ever change if we say nothing?

I’ve got something for that mouth

At the same time I realised, through watching other women go through the same thing online, that if you speak up, you become much more of a target. There is a bizarre irony that if a woman talks about receiving abuse, more people feel compelled to abuse her – for “harping on” about it; for being a “professional victim”. There is that same underlying notion that it’s not really happening, or it’s not serious because it’s just a bit of banter online. So, hey, let’s add to it.

As someone with a certain amount of visibility in the games industry, I knew there was something I could do to show real evidence of this taking place. I also felt I could educate those who don’t know better, who may not even understand that their comments are inappropriate. That makes it all sound super worthy – in reality, I guess I wanted to show these men up and have fun while doing it.

I started it as Tumblr where I pasted online comments from Twitter and other sources – cataloguing the remarks themselves as well as my responses, and putting it all into context. At first, my blogposts were long and ranty, but I quickly realised the quicker I dealt with the abuser, the funnier it became. I also learned not to write when I was angry; instead, I waited until I was calm, until I could separate myself from the initial reaction and see the comedy. It took a long time, but I got there.

Misogyny Monday has now been running for 18 months, and I’m rarely short of material

Misogyny Monday has now been running for 18 months, and I’m rarely short of material. Sometimes it’s insults, sometimes it’s unsolicited sexual remarks, sometimes it’s a thrilling combination of the two.

One of the most fascinating things I’ve learned while working on this project is that within this small minority of men, there are outright misogynists who want nothing more than to stop women from having opinions or a place in the world. But there are also guys who are just simply clueless. Their comments don’t come from a place of hate, they come from just having no idea that this isn’t an acceptable way to speak to women. I’ve noticed on a number of occasions after leaving a snarky remark that they’ll comment again, not just bemused by the fact that I’ve taken offence, but wanting me to know that they like me.

The gaming journalist who tells on her internet trolls – to their mothers

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Another reasoning behind Misogyny Monday is this: if I were a man and I knew what was going on, I would be really angry at these guys. Women don’t set out to be angry and suspicious online; it’s the endless interactions with sexist imbeciles that create that within us. Men often feel hurt when a high profile woman responds harshly to their questions or messages on social media. What you need to be aware of are the 50+ men before you who have objectified or demoralised her in some way. Those are the guys you should be furious at. They’re the ones ruining inter-gender harmony for the rest of us. So this Tumblr has been a handy way to show male peers in the games industry the sort of thing that happens.

What really worries me after five years of these comments, is that it almost seems some men are hardwired to think about women in this way. I don’t know if we can pin the blame on media representation – on music, fashion, games or Hollywood – but if I’m honest, I feel the portrayal of women in all of those categories has something to answer for. These men have learned to treat women in a certain way, just as women have learned to be instantly hostile to unsolicited male attention.

But the most important thing I’ve taken from Misogyny Monday is that if women don’t speak up to challenge the status quo nothing will ever change – whether that’s online abuse or some creep ogling you on your morning run. These men count on women feeling afraid and intimidated. But we can choose to not be afraid, we can speak up. More people are doing it: violinist Mia Matsumiya, for example, has recently launched her Perv Magnet tumblr, which shows some of the thousands of suggestive and abusive messages she has received online over the last decade. It’s not easy at first, but every time this happens, there’s a chance the commenters will think and maybe even stop.

I just know that I got to the point where I couldn’t let them get away with it anymore.